seeking_brilliance

?Stories by the Fire?-- a short story mega-thread

93 posts in this topic

@Myioko wow that was so great. I kind of feel sorry for the siren? she doesn't seem so bad after all, I'll just make sure to not get eaten. 


Check out my lucid dreaming anthology series, Stars of Clay  

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2 minutes ago, seeking_brilliance said:

I kind of feel sorry for the siren?

Hahaa. Yeah, I'd feel sorry for her to, until I saw her weaving flowers through her ivory skull sculpture collection.

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The Glass Pyramid by Greg Margolis

Part I

1.

2007

On the helicopter, Lynne is looking at the photo of herself and Michael. Harry is piloting the helicopter, with John looking on. Harry is looking at a piece of notebook paper.

John: What's that?

Harry: Cheat sheet Jensen drew for me.

John: You don't know where’s your landing field?

Harry: I know where it is.

The helicopter begins flying into heavy gray clouds.

John: Why are you flying directly into the storm?

Harry: Why don't you just sit back and let me do my job, huh?

John turns to look at Lynne, who is still looking at the photograph.

John: Is that Mike?

Lynne: Yes.

The helicopter experiences turbulence. Lightning strikes

Harry: Damn it!

Harry struggles to keep the chopper steady.

Harry: Hold on!

Lynne looks around, gripping the seat.

2.

1993

Michael is asleep. His hair is cut short, and he's in a military base.

SERGEANT: ON YOUR SODDING FEET! MOVE! MOVE! MOVE!

Michael opens his eyes. It takes him a few moments to realize where he is.

SERGEANT: What are you waiting for, Norman?

Michael rockets out of his bed and gets into line.

SERGEANT: What's the matter, Norman? Did you not hear me?

Michael: I'm sorry, Sir. I was...I was having a dream, Sir.

SERGEANT: Having a dream, were you? And what were you dreaming about, that it took you SO SODDING LONG TO GET TO YOUR MARK??!!

Michael: I was on a helicopter, Sir. And there was a storm, Sir. And… I don't remember the rest, Sir.

SERGEANT: Well, at least it was a bloody military dream. Right! All of ya! In the yard, four minutes. And you can thank Private Norman for having to do it in double time. Move!

***

A group of 15 soldiers are in the mud and rain, doing pushups.

SOLDIER 1: One, two, three!

REST: Four!

SOLDIER 1: One, two, three!

REST: Five!

SERGEANT: One hundred crunches! Go, go, go, go, go!

SOLDIER 1: One, two, three, four...

John: I hope your dream was worth it, mate.

Michael: I'm sorry, brother. It's just that, I've never had a dream so vivid. It was like I was actually THERE.

SEARGANT: Have you got something to say, Norman?

Michael remains silent.

SERGEANT: I asked you a question, soldier!

3.

2007

Lynne is extremely disturbed.

Harry: We're almost through it. I see daylight!

Lynne begins to unbuckle herself

John: What are you doing? Lynne! Are you alright?

Lynne: Lynne?! My name is Michael!

4.

November 14th, 1993.

In the office of Professor Arthur Jensen at Oxford University, his wife, Maggie is drinking her third cup of black coffee. Arthur tries again to phone the chopper via a very special satellite. Galethea & The Galactic Traveler stand nearby.

The Traveler: Alright. They took off a day ago. Why haven't we heard from them?

Maggie: I'm going to tell you again, as I've been telling you all night. I don't know! You heard the same thing as I did when we called the helicopter. What makes you think I know anything?

Galethea: Because you're not worried.

Maggie: Excuse me?

Galethea: Your Channel Tunnel is 30 miles long, it should have taken them, what? 20 minutes to get there? So why aren't you worried?

Maggie: Should I join my hands together and whisper a prayer on their behalf!?

Arthur: Hey, hey, hey, c'mon. Maybe we should just…just tell them.

Traveler: Tell us what?

Maggie: Honey, let's not confuse anyone.

Galethea: Well, Professor, maybe if you talk real slow, we'll be able to follow.

Professor Jensen takes a deep breath and says okay.

Arthur: Your perception of how long your friends have been gone, is not necessarily how long they've actually been gone.

Traveler: What does that mean?

Maggie: This is a mistake.

Arthur: It'll be fine, it'll be fine. As long as Harry flew on the bearings I gave him. If he stayed on them, it'll be fine.

Traveler: And what if he didn't?

Arthur: Then there might be… um…let's call it side effects.

 

***

On the copter.

John: We're at eight hundred feet, sit down!

Lynne: What am I doing here!?

Harry: What the hell's going on!?

John: Something's wrong with Lynne!

Lynne: I'm Michael, for Christ sake!

Harry: Hold her there, John!

John: I'm trying!

Lynne: Let go of me!

Harry: We'll be there in two minutes!

The helicopter digresses down, and comes close to the french coast. John lets Lynne go. She notices the photo clenched in her hand. The helicopter lands. As John sees 2 soldiers run over to meet the passengers, he arms himself.

Wes: Harry, what are you doing back?

Eric: Who are they?!

Harry: Members of the Council.

Wes: You shouldn't have brought them here, what the hell were you thinking?!

Lynne: Alright, where am I? who are you people?

Eric: Calm down, Lynne.

Lynne: What am I doing here? Why you keep calling me Lynne?

John: My friend is disoriented!

Lynne: I'm not your friend! I don't know you! Wait.. are you John Morrison?

John: Yes, Lynne! You've remembered!

Wes: When did she start doing this?

Harry: She was fine when we took off. When we hit some weather... Hey, Jensen told me as long as I stayed on the vector…

Wesley motions for him to stay quiet. He and Eric step toward Lynne but are blocked by John.

Wes: What's your name, my friend?

John:  John.

Wes: Okay, John. Look, we're going to take your friend to the nearest hospital.

John: I'm going with you.

Wes:  Let a doctor look at her first, then you can come down. You got my word on that.

John, after some time, nods. Wesley and Eric approach Lynne.

Eric: All right.

Lynne: Listen, listen. This is a mistake.

Eric: Settle down.

Lynne: I don't know these people. Except John, with whom I serve. But he looks older. That's strange… and he's got a beard…

Eric: I understand.

Lynne: No, this is wrong! I'm not supposed to be...

5.

1993

Michael is standing up while the rest of his regiment is doing crunches.

Michael: …here!

SOLDIER 1: Twenty-one, twenty-two, twenty-three...

SERGEANT: Here? Here what? What the hell are you doing on your feet, Norman? Are you finished with your crunches, because you want to RUN?! Right! Squad, on your feet! Right face! Ten kilometers, go, go, go, go, go!

***

Evening. The soldiers are loading a truck.

John: What the hell's the matter with you, Mike?

Michael:  If I told you, you'd think I'm crazy.

John: I already know you're crazy.

They laugh.

Michael: This morning, when I was in the yard doing crunches, I left.

John: What do you mean, left?

Michael: I was on the french beach. And then I was back here...right where I started.

John: Mike, if you're trying to get tossed out of service...

Michael: John, I'm telling you the truth, man.

John: Who else was on this...beach? Anyone you recognized?

Michael: Lynne. There was a photo. I was in the photo.

John: Who's Lynne?

Michael: My girlfriend. At least she was…

Michael gets up and walks away.

John: where are you going?

Michael: To call Lynne.

Michael walks over to a phone booth. As he steps up, a soldier comes out of the phone booth, bumping him and knocking the change out of his hand.

SOLDIER 3: Thanks for this morning, Norman.

Michael: I'm sorry, brother!

SOLDIER 3: Yeah, whatever…

The soldier walks toward John and starts helping him load the truck.

Michael bends down to pick up the coins.

6

2007

Lynne almost falls over.

Wes: Watch your step. Take it easy.

Lynne: I'm not here. This...this isn't happening.

Wes: You ARE here. And, this IS happening. Look, we're going to take care of you.

They enter an SUV.

Lynne: Who are you people?

Wes: Well, my name is Wesley and this is Eric. I'm from Vegas and he's from Florida, but as for where we are, I…

Eric: The last portal was Paris. So we know we're in France.

***

John is on the beach. It’s hot. It reminds him of how he felt on his Solo Navigation Drill in the army, all those years back.

John: What's happening to Lynne? Your friends know what's wrong with her.

Harry: Well if they do, they're not sharing it with me.

John: Then perhaps you'll share how we've flown for 20 minutes, took off at dusk and landed in the middle of the day!

Harry: Listen. I don't know what's happening to your buddy, alright? But you gotta trust me when I tell you this. I AM trying to help you.

John: You want to help me? Give me your Satellite Phone. Let me call my people.

Harry: You give me that gun and I'll give you this phone.

They trade.

Harry: Be quick. And don't go trying to call The Arrow Paradox Command. Those phones can only call each other.

John thinks: 'You sure about that?' but doesn't say anything.

In his office, the one of a kind satellite phone rings. Professor Jensen answers.

Arthur: Hello?

John: Arthur, it's John. I'm on the french coast.

Arthur: Are you okay? Where have you been?

John: Something happened during the flight, and now Lynne's in the hospital.

Arthur: Hold on. You're on speaker.

John: On the helicopter, something happened to Lynne. She did recognized me but she was talking nonsense.

The Traveler to The Professor: The side effects you talked about?

Arthur, ignoring the traveler, spoke to the speaker:

Your friend, Lynne? Was she recently been exposed to high levels of radiation or electromagnetism?

Galethea looked up at The Traveler. Their eyes meet.

John: As a matter a fact, yes. She was. She had an experimental eye surgery. Lasers or some such…

Arthur: Okay, look. Uh, we don't know why exactly, but going to and coming from the The Channel Tunnel, some people can get a little... Forgetful.

John: You mean Lynne's lost her memory?

Arthur: No, it’s not Amnesia. We’re talking about a temporary lapse of memory.

7

1993

Michael is in the rain at the military camp, picking up his coins. Going into the phone booth, he inserts them and dials the number.

Lynne: Hello?

Michael: Lynne, it’s me.

Lynne: What do you want, Michael?

Michael: Uh, Lynne, listen. I'm in trouble, and I think something's happening to me. I'm confused and I want to see you.

Lynne: You broke up with me and joined THE ARMY! Now you call with the expectation that I still care about you? Yeah, I’d say you ARE confused, Michael.

Michael: No, no, I'm not. It's... look, I've got a weekend off starting this Thursday at 06:00.  Can I...can I come and see you?

Lynne: No. No, and don't bother showing up at the apartment, either, 'cause I moved.

Michael: Moved? Where?

Lynne: That doesn't matter. Michael, I'm going to hang up. Please, don't call me again.

Flat Line.

8

2007

Lynne in in a hospital bed. Sedated.

Another Complete Blank

Space and time all fall behind
Strange machines to soothe my mind
Resting this sensory sleep keeps me confined
Recalling a memory undefined

Dr Ray Davis: Did you just experience something, Lynne?

Before Lynne can answer him yes, John and Harry come in.

Dr. Davis: What the hell, Harry? You're not supposed to be down here, and definitely not with him.

Harry: Sorry, doc, but I've got Jensen calling from Oxford, he needs to talk to Lynne.

Dr Davis: No, Jensen's not talking to my patient. Get out of here.

John: She's not your patient!

John slams the doctor to the nearest wall.

Dr. Davis: Hey!

John: Give Lynne the phone.

Dr. Davis, knowing the hospital as well as his palm after 25 years of medical experience as The Head of Internal Brain Injury Department, quickly – not as quick as he was at his twenties, but quick enough – sounds the emergency alarm.

John: Give her the phone now!

Dr. Davis does so.

Lynne takes the phone. John closes the door.

Witnesses –

1.      John Morrison

2.      Harry Lombardi

3.      Ray Davis

In Room 117 of The Hôpital Saint-Antoine, the following conversation is taking place:

Lynne: Hello?

Professor Jensen: Lynne! Lynne, my name is Arthur Jensen. We met yesterday before you took off. But I'm guessing you don't remember that. Am I right?

Lynne: You are. Took off? I really don't remember… what happened? We were in a car crash.. mike and me… is he okay?

Arthur: Lynne, we don't have long to talk, so I need you to tell me what year you think it is.

Lynne: What do you mean, what year do I think it…it's the morning of The New Millenium! January 1st, 2000. Or possibly January 2nd.. My head hurts like a bastard so I might have passed out for more than 24 hours. It can happen. I'm a Med Student. I know all about it. Is it Y2K?

Silence.

Arthur: Alright, Lynne, look. You got to tell me... where are you?

Lynne: Um...I'm in some kind of hospital room.

Arthur: No, no… Not right now, Lynne. Where are you supposed to be? Where are you in Dec 31st, 1999?

Lynne: Uh. Sandringham Gardens, Norfolk, England. The Royal Queen’s Guard Training Facility.

Maggie: Maybe we should…

Arthur: No, no, no. I'm thinking, I'm thinking. Lynne, Listen. When it happens again, you'll be in 1993. Lynne, I need you to get on a train. Get on a train and go to Oxford. Oxford University, Physics Department. Alright?

Lynne: What, why? What are you talking about, 1993?

Arthur: Because I need you to find ME. You are time traveling, my dear.

Lynne: No, Sir. That's not possible. The Arrow Paradox says so.

Professor Arthur Jensen sighs and begins to search his office. The Galactic Traveler is there with him and Maggie, just like he was on that fateful day 14 years ago.

Arthur: Where is it?

Maggie: What?

Arthur: The Glass Pyramid. I need the Pyramid or I won't believe her.

Maggie: What are you talking about? What Pyramid?

Arthur: It’s an experimental project I was working on for the last month.

Maggie (Surprised): You never told ME about any new projects.

Arthur: I’m sorry, honey. I was not at liberty to tell you.

The Traveler interrupts: Why does she think she’s in 2000?

Arthur: I don't know, I don't know. It's unpredictable, it's a random effect. Sometimes it takes hours, sometimes years.

The Traveler: I know, it happened on that day in 1993, I remember.

Arthur: Not only then.

The Traveler: Wait, wait…WHAT?! What do you mean, not only then?

Arthur: It happened TWICE before. Once in 1993 and on one other occasion.

The Traveler: That's news to me. Why wasn't I told about this until now?

Arthur: Now, my friend, is all there is.

The Professor finds The Glass Pyramid.

Arthur: [Into the phone] Lynne, you still there?

John is blocking the door, behind which there is yelling.

John: Talk to him! I can't hold them for long.

Lynne [To Arthur, yelling]: Of course. Where else would I be?

Arthur: Okay, Lynne, listen. When you find me at Oxford, I need you to tell me to set the device to 12.045

Lynne got up from the bed, took a pen and began to write on her left wrist.

Lynne: 12.045 got it.

Arthur: And that it must be oscillating at 885 Hertz. You got it, Lynne?

Lynne: And oscillating at 885 Hz, yes.

Arthur: One last thing, Lynne. If the numbers won’t convince me, I need you to tell me that you know about The Compass.

9

Thursday, October 7th, 1993. 7:30 AM

Michael is on the train. On his way to his parents' house. The house he grew up in. London, England. Reflecting on his broken relationship with Lynne Daniels.

What was I thinking. Of course she reacted like that on the phone. I haven’t been in ANY kind of contact for over 3 months. She lied, she hasn’t moved. I’ll bet money on that.

But she asked you. Don’t call her again. It’s over, Mike. You know it is. Go home, take a shower, sleep, wake up tommorow and you know what? Go visit your brother at Oxford.

After graduating high school and working at a Textile Factory for 3 years, Michael chose, unexpectedly, a military career. Why? Because of Lynne’s father, Anthony. A wealthy man. The kind of man HIS father never was and the kind of man, he, Michael, wanted to be. So in order to prove himself worthy of Mr. Daniels’ daughter, he joined The Queen’s Guard. His one and only meeting with Mr. Daniels was 4 months ago. On his 21st birthday, as it happened. He remembered that meeting as if it happened five minutes ago and he will never forget it.

May 28th, 1993 12:05 PM

Mr. Anthony Daniels: Lynne didn't tell me you are a factory worker, Michael. Hard work, If I could say so myself. Impressive.

Micheal Norman: Thank you, Sir.

Mr. Daniels: What about academy? Thinking of applying for University?

Michael: I am not a man of means, Sir. I hope to be, one day. University costs a lot now days. I had to look after my 2 sisters after my father came into financial straits.

Mr. Daniels: Any military experience?

Michael: No, sir.

Noticing a work of art on the wall, A Ship in the Ocean, Michael said: "She's beautiful, Mr. Daniels"

Mr Daniels looked directly at Michael's green eyes.

Michael: Your ship, I mean.

Mr. Daniels smiled. So did Michael.

Mr. Daniels: Thank you kindly, Michael. Call me Anthony. I'm going to see to it that you have a position in our administrative department. Not the most glamorous duty but it's a start. I'll speak to human resources.

Michael: With all due respect, Anthony, I haven't come here to interview for a position in your company.

Anthony: You haven't?

Michael: No, Sir. I came here to ask for your daughter's hand in marriage. We've been together for 2 years. Lynne's moving in. I love her very much. Your permission would mean the world to me.

Anthony: A very noble gesture.

Anthony went for the liquor cabinet and pulled a bottle of XO Cognac and two glasses.

Anthony: This is Anderson Cognac. Named after Sir David Anderson, an esteemed General from the Royal Navy. He retired with more medals than any man, before or since. He moved to the Scottish Highlands to see out his remaining years. General Anderson is a great man, Mike. This is his crowning achievement.

Anthony poured some into Michael's glass and then a similar amount into his own.

Anthony: Cheers.

Michael: This swallow is worth more than my father made in one MONTH in his prime. To share it with you, Sir, is an honour.

Friday, October 8th, 1993 2:33 PM

He walks down a hall, and sees an elderly man talking to a young individual.

He assumes he just witnessed an academy faculty professor having a conversation with one of his students. Neither he, nor any of his immidiate family ever were on a college campus, let alone university up until 2 years ago, when his younger brother, Liam, was accepted to Law School at Oxford University.

Professor Arthur Jensen: ...not a single piece of original thinking. You DO understand the concept of original, Matthew, don't you? the opposite of repetitive? Now I'm the one you need to impress, Mr. Hollister, and I'm not impressed. So go. Go try again.

Matthew Hollister: Yes, Professor Jensen. I'll try it on my next experiment.

Professor Arthur Jensen: You do that.

Matthew took his papers with him, put them in his bag and went toward the dormitories.

Professor Jensen shook his head and was about to head the other way, when another student - in his opinion - asked him a question.

Michael: Um, sorry. Are you a professor?

Arthur: Professor Arthur Jensen, Physics Department. And you are...?

SHOCKING TRUTH

CLIMATE CHANGE

FLOODS AND FIRES

HURRICANES

Silence from the student.

Great, Arthur thought, now I need to breathe whatever this young fellow is smoking. Don't they have regulations around here? It's Oxford, for heaven's sake.

Michael: Um...sorry, I'm Michael Norman, and um...I was told I could find you here. I think I've ... just been..  to… umm… The Future.

Michael green eyes met Arthur's brown ones.

Arthur: ...The Future?

Michael: Yes. Uh, I spoke to you there, you told me to come here, to Oxford, to find you.

Arthur: Why didn't I just help you there, in the future?

Michael: I'm sorry?

Arthur: Why would I put you through the headache of time travel? You know what I mean, it just seems a little... unnecessary? Don't you think? And don't you think that my colleagues could have come up with something just a little more believable, huh? What kind of a prank is that?

Mostly to himself, Arthur said: "Paradox. So uninspiring"

Michael: Set your device to um... 12.045 and make sure it oscillates at 885 Hertz.

Arthur: Okay, now you, you're going to tell me who told you those numbers.

Michael: You did.

Arthur: No, this is — this is ridiculous.

Michael: I know about The Compass.

***

Arthur takes Michael into his laboratory.

Michael: where are we?

Arthur: This is where I conduct my experiments. Alright, this, this future version of me... uh, he referenced this meeting, right? Obviously, so, so I would remember you coming to Oxford, right? I would remember this, here, right now.

Michael: I guess…

Arthur, again, to himself: Of course I would.

Michael: So this, this is changing the future?

Arthur: You can't change the future because it hasn’t happened yet.

Arthur puts on some kind of protective suit. Much like the Atomic/Chemical/Biological Unit, Michael has trained with at the base.

Michael: What's that for?

Arthur: Radiation.

Michael: Do I get one?

Arthur: You don't need one. It’s for prolonged exposure; I do this 20 times a day.

Arthur flicks some switches and then reaches over, taking out a 3 by 3 foot piece of glass. It looked nice, Michael thought.

Arthur: And this… is The Glass Pyramid. 

Michael: What does it do?

Arthur: This, if the numbers you gave me are correct, will Astral Project your consciousness through the Space Time Continuum.

Arthur presses a button.

9\11\01

SUICIDE PLANES

TOWERS CRUMBLE

HEROES DIE

Michael: What just happened?

Arthur: Nothing.

Michael: What?

Arthur: The pyramid, for some reason, didn't work.

End of Part I


"I believe you are more afraid of condemning me to the stake than for me to receive your cruel and disproportionate punishment."

- Giordano Bruno, Campo de' Fiori, Rome, Italy. February 17th, 1600.

Cosmic pluralist, mathematician and poet.

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@Eternal Unity

Thank you! This style of scriptive narrative writing is really interesting. I used to implement it a bit by suddenly throwing randomly into my novel. (and no, there's no novel ?) 

It's rather long so I'll have to read it later. Would you like to try writing a flash fiction to a painting? 

Check out my music playlist. All of these are made from paintings submitted by club members. There are many more in the club page and some really great ones that I haven't gotten to yet.  I'm still scouting for more writers and musicians, because it's way more fun with participation. Come check it out ?

 

 

 

,( phone bug below) 

6 minutes ago, Myioko said:

 


Check out my lucid dreaming anthology series, Stars of Clay  

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24 minutes ago, seeking_brilliance said:

@Myioko @Hulia both of your poems are great! I would love for either of you to post them in the club. If you decide to, I will send you the image and then you post the poem with the image as a club contribution. (the club is private now Btw) no pressure of course. 

I´ve already posted it!

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15 minutes ago, Myioko said:

 

Hahaa. Yeah, I'd feel sorry for her to, until I saw her weaving flowers through her ivory skull sculpture collection.

For me she looks like she is bluffing. I bet, a skull is artificial to keep seemen away. Otherwise she would have a fresh corpse and not that pitiful copy of a head :) 

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@Hulia I know, If you want to keep it as a comment on his post, that's fine. BUT if you make it in your own post, I can add the tag #contribution - - it makes it easier for everyone to find the contributions, and inspire them to try it out too. 


Check out my lucid dreaming anthology series, Stars of Clay  

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@seeking_brilliance yeah sorry about the length...

I will check your playlist. And I am interested in flash fictions

We'll be in touch 

Greg 


"I believe you are more afraid of condemning me to the stake than for me to receive your cruel and disproportionate punishment."

- Giordano Bruno, Campo de' Fiori, Rome, Italy. February 17th, 1600.

Cosmic pluralist, mathematician and poet.

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12 hours ago, seeking_brilliance said:

@Hulia I know, If you want to keep it as a comment on his post, that's fine. BUT if you make it in your own post, I can add the tag #contribution - - it makes it easier for everyone to find the contributions, and inspire them to try it out too. 

oh.. I am not a poet to have my own posts :) comment is enough

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Prolouge

The Ancient Prophecy, June 10th, 1292.

1


It was a good time for all creatures of the earth, but fate decreed that The Dark Prophecy of The Templar Knight could bring a tragic end to this peace, scarring their lives forever.

 “Shortly before his defeat in the last of the primordial wars between the heavens and hell, Kyrone, the only son of The God King Marson would withdraw to The Fortress in The Mountains. There, sensing his impending death, he will inscribe A Testament of Pure Evil in Seven Black Books. One by one, six of these books would be discovered through out The Ages. However, the whereabouts of the seventh, last and most terrible of all - the book that will contain the key to Kyrone's Ressurection - will remain hidden. In the fortress, Kyrone will command Ten Immortal Demons to carry out his malicious plan so he, Kyrone, could rule once again in The Unholy Name of Cosmic Chaos. And this time, he would Reign Supreme!"

Sydney, Australia. December 2nd, 2027.

2

Rise, My Clandestine, Thy Secrecy Invoked

06:01

“Move, General”

“You’ve got to move, Sir”

The General seemed to freeze in his tracks. Probably contemplating his next action, Charlie thought.

Charles Lee was the general’s second in command and if his superior won’t do something and do it soon, his general would be dead meat. A sequence of events that would mean only one thing: He, Charlie, is going to take command of The Squad. A certainly desired post, but he didn’t feel ready for it. Not in the slightest.

 

Fall From Distant Worlds, Red Eyed Skies Above.

06:02

The Sniper, First Sergeant Corey Quigley, has been lying in the same position for 40 minutes. Breathing steadily. Camouflaged.

This guy, Charlie thought, had it all figured out: Wind Speed, Temperature, Barometric Pressure. But you know what the most important thing he said is? Patience. The target is attracted to my scope, he said. Always. If you wait enough time, the enemy is toasted.

 

Hark, Lures of the Siren.

06:03

Wesley Michaels is a ladies man. A gambler. An addict. Born and raised in Las Vegas, Nevada. At twenty-seven, he was twice divorced, did a year in jail and impregnated three women. Wes could have been the perfect soldier if not for his authority problems. Undisciplined Fearless Human Machine. or “The Pirate” as he was nicknamed since boot camp.

 

Beyond, The Veils of Dawn.

06:04

A helicopter’s engine is heard in the distance. The General is awakened from his trance.

“This stake out is useless.” Wes whispered.

“Shhh” Colonel Lee tried to silence him. "This stake out is of the utmost importance, damn it, Wes, didn’t you listen to the briefing?"

General David Anderson looked at The Compass.

“Fire”

Quigley squeezed the trigger.

An explosion – 20,000 nuclear weapons just went of, Wes thought – brightened the eastern horizon.

“Holy Smokes” Wes Shrieked.

“Mission accomplished” Anderson declared. “We’ll convene at the usual rendezvous point at fifteen hundred hours.”

Edited by Eternal Unity
Epic Fantasy

"I believe you are more afraid of condemning me to the stake than for me to receive your cruel and disproportionate punishment."

- Giordano Bruno, Campo de' Fiori, Rome, Italy. February 17th, 1600.

Cosmic pluralist, mathematician and poet.

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HIDDEN COVE

Exploring the beach one day, I stumbled upon a hidden cove tucked away between high walls of stone. I had been stranded on this island for days, and this was probably the first time I smiled.

I guess I thought-- If I'm to die here, at least I have an amazing yard. So this is where I built my first permanent shelter. It was small and flimsy, and the island's monkeys came down and ransacked it along with my stores of coconuts. I learned to bury my food, and rebuilt the shelter with extra palm leaves and timber.

Over time I gathered enough materials to make crude tools and built a stronger dwelling, this one more of a hut or shack. There was no door of course, but plenty of time. Not much of the plane washed up on shore, though eventually there was enough to craft a nice tin roof. I know that doesn't seem much, but believe me: the prospect of a dry night during wet season was life changing.

It surprised me how quickly I settled into this new life. I had seen all the movies (and that famous show) and although nothing could ever prepare me for the actual experience, I felt a bit guilty for how little I missed home. Sure, I'd kill for a warm meal or a super venti cold foam latte; but I left single, and dad was well cared for at Oak Valley retirement village.

Last we spoke, he was playing croquet in golf carts, and had asked Margaret to ride with him. His new neighbor, Margaret was widowed since before I started pilot lessons. So anyway... I knew he'd be fine without me, if it ever came to that. No sight of searchers yet, and I'd been burning a smoke stack on the open beach since day one.

I never made friends with the monkeys, though we had a mutual agreement over coconuts and bananas. The agreement was that we both love these fruits and the monkeys had complete dibs on any they found. Luckily I discovered an area they wouldn't touch--because, I learned, the tall water birds are quite territorial. There were less of them mid morning, but I don't think I got a single meal without beating off a giant bird or two.

With time, the shack grew to a cabin. Still very small, as I don't need much home space; but I wanted a bench and a table for projects, and a porch facing the hidden cove. Here I would sit and whittle, and melt into the crashing waves.

Once night, I walked to the beach and snuffed out the fire.

Maybe I'll try teaching the monkeys sign language.

 

 


Check out my lucid dreaming anthology series, Stars of Clay  

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"I believe you are more afraid of condemning me to the stake than for me to receive your cruel and disproportionate punishment."

- Giordano Bruno, Campo de' Fiori, Rome, Italy. February 17th, 1600.

Cosmic pluralist, mathematician and poet.

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10 minutes ago, seeking_brilliance said:

 

I like it so much - your playing with the text visualisation

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The Story of the Spirit of Water

I am going to tell you a little story using the example of water. Water is a substance that is composed of molecules with the chemical formula H2O. Let us pretend that it is possible for you to meet and talk to a single water molecule to get its perspective on life. Let us imagine that we randomly choose one such molecule and we find it in a wintry landscape high on a mountain. If we inquired of our new acquaintance what it is doing it might say, "I am sitting quite still, holding tight to all my other water molecule friends around me. Together we have formed a glacier." This is what water molecules do when they get cold enough. They slow down and become quite still. As they do, they team up with the other molecules around them and bond together into a solid structure. This is what ice is. And that is how they remain, relatively still and bonded together, until heat is applied. Which brings me to the next time we meet our little water molecule. Winter passes and the warming rays of the spring sun heat the glacier. All the water molecules are energized and they begin to move. Eventually some of them are moving too vigorously to maintain their bonds and they break free, trickling away into a stream. When we eventually find our new friend and ask it what it is up to it says, "I am rushing down a mountain side in a fast flowing river". Again we allow some time to pass. Summer comes. The stream is caught in a large lake and the hot summer sun bakes down upon the water. Water molecules on the surface of the lake are heated up some more. The extra energy makes them dance even more free and they fly from the water's surface as vapour. Now our friend might report, "I am drifting away on the breeze" In due course, our friend is likely to find a cloud to join and will eventually cool and make water-bonds again and fall to earth. And so it will go around the cycle yet again.

And now that you have gotten to know the water molecule a little, which of its states, do you think, is the most like Self Realization?

Being still and peaceful and connected with others in the glacier?

Being fluid but still connected in the river?

Being free and energized as vapour?

Greg


"I believe you are more afraid of condemning me to the stake than for me to receive your cruel and disproportionate punishment."

- Giordano Bruno, Campo de' Fiori, Rome, Italy. February 17th, 1600.

Cosmic pluralist, mathematician and poet.

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@Eternal Unity love that! It's like a narrative self inquiry. ♥️ Do you have more like this? 

And my answer: water

Edited by seeking_brilliance

Check out my lucid dreaming anthology series, Stars of Clay  

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To the Top - short story

It was the longest dream I've ever had. I remember climbing what felt like an endless mountain, and all the little stops along the way-- whole cities carved into its glittering rocky side. At first I didn't know that I was dreaming, and everything just started out like normal (well, as normal as any dream can be.) Even before I was lucid, I found it very intriguing to visit the first few levels of the cavernous cities. Each one was so unique and beautiful, and the chiseled streets bursting with energy. 

The third city I visited was a bit more advanced than the previous, having learned to use crystals and gemstones as power sources for their crude technology. I got swept up in a particularly odd side-quest, in which I followed a group of gem miners deep into the heart of the mountain. One of them fell into a bottomless pit on the way to a big score. The bridge across the pit had snapped, and I wasn't strong enough to save her. Despair hit me like a swinging axe, when suddenly she plopped out of the ceiling and landed safely on the other side. 

Here, I learned that each city is stuck on their respective levels in some sort of safety loop. At least it made sense while I was dreaming; and even as I began to gain lucidity I was bound to this limiting law of the dream. The only way to travel to another city was to head back to the face of the mountain, and fly up and away (a gift none of the inhabitants seemed to possess.)

Somewhere around the fifth city, I was fully aware that I was dreaming. Even by that point it felt as if this had been going on forever. I decided to explore this city while lucid, and just see if I could make it to the next before waking up (typically my dreams break down not long after realizing.) This city was the most brilliant yet, as the inner dwellings were all made of giant glowing crystals and the moist air buzzed with power. The dwellers showed signs of telepathic technology-- or in other words, their thoughts were transmitted to a crystal tablet which they wore on top of their heads. I flew straight to the nearest crystal headband store and delightfully joined in on the fun. However, despite these advances, the inhabitants still squabbled amongst themselves and prayed to money. 

The sixth and seventh cities were exponentially more advanced and unique; but as I continued to dream, I noticed an increasing loss of enthusiasm for exploring. This was dragging on so long, I found myself getting bored and thinking about stuff I needed to do tomorrow after waking up. Those bills don't pay themselves, ya know.

"If I ever wake up, that is" I said, sitting in on an impromptu performance of the most angelic choir and crystal symphony. Don't get me wrong: I was also able to enjoy the music, but a sense of anxiety begins to build when you don't know how long you've been asleep. For all I knew, my phone could be ringing off the hook because I've dreamed through my alarm and running late for work. I stopped for a moment and listened; I heard nothing but the choir. 

I flew up past a few levels, and only stopped briefly at the  eleventh because there were lots of fireworks. Crystal-optic projections, most likely-- but just as spectacular, if not more.  They seemed to be celebrating something huge; and as I climbed the mountain, the inhabitants had now gained the ability to fly, like me. They were also able to travel between levels, but appeared as unrecognizable to the lower caverns. This struck me as odd, because I'm able to interact with all levels; but then again, it was just a dream, right?

I wanted to wake up. Something within told me that I would have to reach the top of the mountain to do so, but the higher I climbed, the top seemed further and further away. I began to worry about my loved ones. Hopefully I wasn't lying in bed in some kind of sleep coma. I could only imagine my wife calling the ambulance and my daughter crying because her daddy wouldn't wake up. Every possible dramatic scenario rushed through my mind as I climbed ever higher, never quite able to reach the top. 

It came to a point where I realized I was never going to wake up. This was hard to accept at first, so I stopped into some random high level city and received a quantum healing to help me think. I just had to reach the top of the mountain... if I didn't wake up, it would hurt those who miss me. As the gaseous crystals flooded my being, I was presented with quite another thought:

I'm already there.

It was true. I could sense myself standing at the top, arms spread wide and taking in the glorious freedom. This was naught but a fleeting glimpse tucked away in a hidden corner of my mind; yet seeing it now, I needed no reassurance. This whole climb was a distraction from what's truly there in front of me. I could see now, I was always there, already at the top of the mountain. I could wake myself up at any time. 

                     *************

Kelly grunted in the light of my phone, and rolled over. 

It was 4 a.m. and pleasantly satisfied, I remembered it was my day off and went back to sleep.

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Check out my lucid dreaming anthology series, Stars of Clay  

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28 minutes ago, seeking_brilliance said:

@Eternal Unity Do you have more like this? 

Working on it :)


"I believe you are more afraid of condemning me to the stake than for me to receive your cruel and disproportionate punishment."

- Giordano Bruno, Campo de' Fiori, Rome, Italy. February 17th, 1600.

Cosmic pluralist, mathematician and poet.

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